Rainy Season
by prettyargents
Summary: Looking out at the vast ocean, all I can think is that things would be okay again. Things don't have to be perfect; he taught me that. All I know is that I'm not afraid anymore. [Scott/OC, AU fic]
1. Prologue

The waves of the ocean seem calm to most; but to me, it feels like a raging war. The waves crash and do not give yield to anything in their path. Miles of ominous darkness below the shining surface call out to me. Children, so innocent and filled with joy don't see what I do. They play with their families in the cool liquid, letting it soak their soft skin and fill them with a sense of freedom. All I see is death; the end of any happiness I felt.

_It hadn't rained this hard in weeks and my family was unprepared for the onslaught of torrential downpour. Out on our fishing boat, my mother, father, and I had decided to take a trip out for the day and spend some family time together. The weather had cleared us for a day of sunshine and only a few clouds; nothing could have prepared us for this. For the past few weeks we had all been busy with school, work, and other responsibilities; it was nice to be together as a family for a little while. It's too bad that life had other things in mind for us than a day of relaxation. _

_A storm had come from nowhere, taking us by surprise. Life jackets all but forgotten once it hit us. The waves violently rock the boat, sending us all crashing to the floor. Pain flares through my side as I hit the floor, most likely bruising my ribs from the impact. I wipe the rain droplets away from my eyes, trying to clear my vision, but it's no use. The storm is so strong that even moving around seemed like a pointless endeavor. _

_"Emma!" my father screams out suddenly as the boat takes another violent lurch. I grab a hold of the railing next to me and manage to stand up in time to see my mother be tossed over the side of the boat. My father frantically tries to find her in the water but screams out in frustration when he comes up empty. I crawl across the floor of the boat over to him and manage to stand myself up next to him. I glance over the thrashing waves, searching for my mother, but there is nothing but dark water and salty spray. I go to jump over the side myself in the hopes of finding her; my ten years of swim team giving me hope that I could pull her out. _

_Just as I make one leg over the side, my father frantically pulls me back, leading both of us to fall back on the boat floor. _

_"What are you doing?" I scream at him, pushing away from his firm hold on me. "I can save her! She needs me!"_

_"Avery!" he yells just as loudly, his voice straining with fear. "It's too dangerous in there! I can't just let you dive in!"_

_I scramble and push harder, tears finally falling fiercely from my eyes. I scream in frustration that he won't let me go. He won't let me save her. She's gone. _

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**A/N:** Oh hi there! So I know I get really weird when it comes to fics, but I couldn't stop myself with this one. It's a Scott/OC AU fic (so no wolves my friends!)

I really thought that it would be a nice change from the usual and also some love for our Scott lovers!

Let me know what you think and if I should continue at all :)

xx


	2. Welcome to Your New Life

_The wind sends shivers down my spine; the icy droplets of rain pelt my face as if it were shot from a gun. The boat violently rocks back and forth, causing me to lose balance and fall against the railing of the boat. _

_"Avery!" I hear the raspy voice of my mother as she tries desperately to hold onto the side of the boat, her eyes revealing how scared she really was. _

_We had to make it through this. _

_"Mom!" I shout in return, moving as quickly as possible in her direction, hoping to reach her before another wave hits the boat. Just as I reach out to grab my mother's hand, she is suddenly gone. I frantically look around the boat trying to find her when I hear a strangled cry come from the churning water below. Looking down the side, I see my mother barely hanging on to a rope that is connected to the boat. _

_"Help me, Avery," she cries, reaching one of her hands out to me while keeping the other firmly attached to the rope. "I don't think I can hold on for much longer!"_

_I lean over the side of the railing, ready to grab her hand when another wave crashes into the boat, causing it to pitch forward as well as hurl my mother out into the black and violent water. _

_"Mom!" I shout, my eyes darting back and forth taking in the scene below me, trying to pinpoint where my mother has drifted. "Mom?!"_

_I strain my ears, hoping to hear something; something that would let me know that my mother was okay, that she could possibly still be alive._

_But all I can hear is silence._

Gasping, I sit up and accidentally hit my head on the roof of the car. Looking over to the driver's seat, I see that my dad is no longer in the car. I glance out the front window and see him inside a small gas station, most likely purchasing drinks for us.

Leaning my head back against the head rest, I take a few deep breaths, trying to calm my frantically beating heart. It's been a while since I had a dream about mom. The past few weeks I had been able to finally get the rest I needed, but I think that with the stress of the move, my nights are about to get a lot more restless.

Grabbing a hair tie from my wrist, I pull my reddish-brown hair into a low ponytail. I also turn up the air conditioning inside the car, hoping to cool down my sticky and hot skin. Rubbing my hand on my neck which had small prickles of pain due to the angle of which I slept, I watch my dad leave the store and walk back over to the car.

"Hey kiddo," he says while opening his door. He puts a small bag down on my lap that contains a few bottles of water and a bag of pretzels. "I thought we could have a snack or something before we continue."

He turns the car on and puts it into drive, ready to keep moving on our trip across the country. Looking out the window, I watch as trees and fields go by; other people homes fall behind as my new home grows ever closer.

My new home is located near San Diego, California; quite a long way from home. Luckily for me, I relished in the changes to come. Being in Saco was comfortable but everywhere I went was riddled with memories of my mother. It was almost painful to go the grocery store where she used to let me ride the 50 cent plastic pony ride when I was a child. This change of scenery was just what my dad and I needed.

I had tried to move on from what had happened, and so far I think I've done well. I am still plagued with guilt as well as feel like there is an entire piece of myself missing, but at the same time, I've managed to accept the fact that she is never coming back. I had turned to music to keep the thoughts at bay; learning guitar as well as keeping my iPod on full volume at almost all hours of the day.

My dad, well, he has tried many different methods of moving on from "the incident." First, it was working too much, then it became excessive amounts of fishing in which we would eat Cod for days on end, and finally it was Charlotte.

Charlotte Reid is my father's new fiancée and my soon to be step-mom. My father met Charlotte when she was visiting Portland, Maine to write a new novel. Charlotte is an author and has sold millions of books; even being on the Bestseller list twice. She had traveled to Maine to write a romance story of a fisherman and the woman he left behind. While working, she met my father and he was taken with her in an instant. Her porcelain skin and sun kissed brown hair made her irresistible. After dating for a few years, my father finally decided that he was ready to make our family larger; so he popped the question.

I wasn't surprised, nor was I really upset about it. I knew that my father wouldn't want to be alone forever; he deserved happiness. I know he still thinks about my mom all the time, and so does Charlotte. She has resigned to the fact that my mother will always be a part of us, and I think she really embraces it. She has never been afraid to let me know that I can make the boundaries of our relationship.

Charlotte also has a three year old daughter, Abbey. This child is the light of my life. When I first met Abbey, she jumped up into my arms and stuck her lollipop in my mouth, telling me that she hopes it makes all my frowns go away. Once she smiled, I was done for.

"So I think that if we only take a few more breaks, we should be there by late afternoon," my dad says, turning on his turn signal and moving into the next lane over. "Thankfully we don't have much to do tomorrow."

"Maybe we can take Abbey to the beach," I reply, already excited to see the youngster. It had been almost two months since I had seen her and I was itching to finally hug her again.

"She would love that," he nods, smiling at the thought of Abbey running through the sand, most likely chasing after a sea gull. "I also have to do a few things at the restaurant if you want to stop by and see it."

Ah, the restaurant. When I was only four years old, my father inherited a small restaurant called "Anchors," in Saco Maine. My grandfather, Albert Lucas, built the small restaurant when he was only twenty years old; working day in and day out to serve the small town the best fish in the state. He had suffered from a stroke and passed away, leaving the restaurant to my father and my Uncle Charlie. The restaurant has been one of the most popular destination spots in our small area of Maine. Thousands of people would make the hour trip from Portland to come eat some of the famous onion rings and my dad's lobster rolls.

When my dad decided to marry Charlotte, he purchased a small restaurant space on Black Beach where he would expand Anchors to another side of the country. He and my Uncle spent weeks figuring out budgets and ideas for the new addition. This week would be spent putting the restaurant together as well as marketing for the grand opening.

After a few more hours of small talk and my dad singing obnoxiously off-key to Jimmy Buffet, we finally arrive at the new house where Charlotte and Abbey sit on the wrap-around porch, waiting for our arrival. The house is nothing extravagant compared to many of the other homes in the area, but for my family, I think it is perfect. The outside is painted a soft yellow with white trimming, giving it a cottage-like feel. The house is two stories and has enough room for each of us to have our own bedroom. There is a small yard out back with an area for a swing set as well as a bonfire pit.

Opening my door, I step out and am greeted by a fierce hug from Abbey. "Avey, Avey," she giggles, still not able to fully say my name.

"Munchkin!" I laugh, swinging her in my arms, causing a cry of delight to ring out.

I set Abbey down, still holding onto her small hand, and walk over to Charlotte to give her a small hug in greeting.

"My, my Avery," she smiles at me, "these California boys won't know what hit them."

Throwing a wink my way, we head into the house. Opening the front door, my eyes are assaulted with a view of many boxes scattered around as well as random items placed on available surfaces. Sighing, we all go into the house and begin unpacking any items that we may need in the near future.

After about two hours, I decide to take a break from unpacking and instead go explore some of the area before it becomes dark outside. Grabbing my phone and calling out a quick good-bye, I race out the door into the California sunshine.

Taking a deep breath, I take in my surroundings. The palm trees swaying lightly in the summer breeze; the sound of cars speeding down the road, some honking due to their driver's frustrations; it already feels like home to me.

I choose to go left out of the short gravel driveway, hopefully heading in the direction of the beach or at least some shops. My feet pound on the sidewalk, my sandals perfect for the weather today. I had heard that California could be blisteringly hot, but luckily today had chosen to be a cool one.

As I walk for about ten minutes, I finally see the beginning of the beach. Hundreds of people were still here, even though it was getting quite late into the afternoon; families out for a day at the beach, couples out for a picnic, surfers riding the large and rolling waves. I take to the boardwalk first, observing the different shops and restaurants that are scattered along it. There is a group of teenagers standing outside of a small smoothie shop who all seem to be friendly with one another.

I hadn't really made many friends when I lived in Maine. I had my best friend Clara who I had met when I was only five, but otherwise, I chose to spend time alone or with my family. I liked hanging out with friends, but sometime it seemed too overwhelming. The girls in my grade were highly intimidating, making me scared to even talk with them. The boys were even worse; cat-calling and insults were a daily occurrence.

I finally reach the sand and take off my sandals. The sand is slightly warm and my feet sink into the soft pebbles. I slowly make my way closer to the water, stopping with about fifteen feet between the edge of the tide and myself, before taking a seat.

I watch the water; the waves and the soft sound of each one as it breaks on the shore makes my eyes slowly close. Even though the water had hurt me in such a violent manner, it still seemed beautiful to me.

"Hi, mom," I whisper to the ocean. "I'm finally here. I think you would like it, especially how there isn't any need for a heavy jacket."

I smile, thinking of how my mother always hated the cold weather of Maine. Any time she had to put a jacket on, she would make a big deal of buttoning it up and showing how it bothered her. I think she secretly liked bundling up though. My dad used to call her "roly-poly" when she dressed in layers; he said she looked like she could roll down a hill from all the clothing surrounding her.

"I miss you."

Sighing, I start playing with the sand, letting it run through my finger tips. Just as I grab a hold of another hand full, I am knocked to the ground and feel a flash of pain on the left side of my face. Wincing, I place my hand on my face and feel heat from where I had been somehow hit. Looking over, I see a white and yellow volleyball sitting on the sand.

"Hey!" I hear a shout. A young boy, most likely about my age runs over to me, his eyes wide. "Are you alright?"

The boy has dark tanned skin, hair that is an inky black, and a jaw that seemed to be a bit off center. His toned muscles glisten with sweat as the sun beats down. He finally makes it over to me; his eyes frantically search my face until he lets out a small gasp. He lifts his hand up to my left cheek and grazes his fingertips slowly over the spot where the ball had just marked my skin. His eyes lift up to meet mine and stop; his deep brown eyes bore into my blue ones, causing a trail of sparks to make their way through my entire body.

"Wow," he finally says after a few moments.

I raise my eyebrows as well as try to cover the spot on my face; I'm guessing from his reaction that my face looks pretty awful.

"Oh—shit, no," he reacts quickly, shaking his head. "I mean—is your head okay?"

I nod and shoot him a small smile.

"Good—that's good," he smiles back and then sticks out his hand. "I'm Scott. Scott McCall."

"Oh, uh-," I stutter out. "I'm Avery. Avery Lucas."

"Well, Avery Lucas, I am truly sorry about hitting you in the face with the volleyball. I hope you can forgive me?" He asks, giving me a small pout and begging eyes that I bet wins people over all the time.

"Hm, I'll have to think about it."

Giving him a quick smirk, I pick up the volleyball from the ground and toss it to him. I wave my fingers at him in farewell and begin walking away from the beach. I take a quick glance back at Scott and see him shaking his head and smiling at my retreating form.

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**Alright, so there is chapter one! I am still learning the ways of writing, so don't mind my mistakes! **

**Let me know what you think, comments are greatly appreciated! :)**


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